


Time Capsule

by carrot_tsunderima_1011



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Future Fic, Heartbreaking, How Do I Tag, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, I Made Myself Cry, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Nostalgia, Old Age, Sad, lonely Akashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:40:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28853691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrot_tsunderima_1011/pseuds/carrot_tsunderima_1011
Summary: The seven of them buried a time capsule and vowed to retrieve it together exactly 50 years later. 50 years later, only one returns.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Time Capsule

**Author's Note:**

> Damn, I felt so sad when I was writing it. Hopefully you can feel the sadness too because this is my first time writing sad stuff. Anyways, please enjoy!!!

_ “So Aominecchi… What did you put in?” Kise asked as he sidled up against Aomine. The boy shrugged him off rather harshly. “Go away. I'm not telling you.” The blonde pouted, puffing out his cheeks. “So mean! What about you, Midorimacchi?” _

_ “Go die.” _

_ “Hmph.” _

_ “You will know in 50 years, Kise-kun. That is the whole point of the activity.” Kuroko piped in. Kagami raised an eyebrow. “Wow. So we really are putting this crap here for 50 years? Isn't 50 years too long?” Akashi stopped walking, causing Kagami to bump into him. “Dude, what-” _

_ “Is this your attempt of telling me that you may forget about this after 50 years?” He questioned, staring at the taller redhead, who visibly gulped. “... No.” _

_ “Good.” _

_ Aomine snorted behind him, wrapping a tanned arm around his neck. “Heh. What Bakagami is trying to say is that he doesn’t think he can live long enough to dig out this shit.” _

_ “I never said that, dumbass!” Kagami retorted indignantly. The tall bluenette tipped his chin up with a cocky smile on his face. “But you implied it. Wanna bet? I will live the longest life out of all of us here.” _

_ Midorima fixed his glasses and rolled his eyes. “Nonsense. You are one of the unhealthiest people I’ve ever seen. There is no way you can live longer than me.”  _

_ “Wrong, Midorimacchi! Of course that’s gonna be me!” Kise said proudly, puffing out his chest.  _

_ “Can we leave now? I'm hungry. Also, I can outlive you all.” Murasakibara said, chewing on a chip. Midorima rolled his eyes again. “When are you not? We still have to put the things in, you fool.” _

_ Akashi blinked. “Idiots. You do realize that your bet is placed on whoever dies last?” The boys went silent, wide-eyed as they gasped. Akashi mentally face-palmed.  _

_ “Yes, we do know that, Akashi-kun. It’s sick and inappropriate, but it’s wild.” Kuroko said, his small pale face remaining monotonous. “Are you joining the bet, Akashi-kun? The winner gets to buy food for the others.”  _

_ The others seemed to have recovered from the shock and stared at him intently. “Fine, whatever. I’ll join.” Akashi relented with a sigh. “Now, can we dig the hole?” _

_ They took out their small shovels and started digging at the corner of the park.  _

_ “There. Done.” Aomine stood up with his hands on his waist, looking proud. Midorima looked around worriedly. “Wait. Are you sure we can do this? Other people are looking at us funny.” _

_ “We’re breaking the rules, but no one will care.” Kuroko pointed to the ‘No digging’ sign right on top of them. Midorima almost shrieked. “What? I do care!” _

_ Aomine stifled a yawn. “But again, no one cares about you so…” _

_ “Aomine!” _

_ Kagami patted the greenhead on his shoulder. “Don’t fret. No one’s gonna know. We just have to come back 50 years later and retrieve it.” _

  
  
  


Akashi stares at the calendar on the wall. It feels weird; it's something that he almost never does these days since he had already retired. Keeping track of the time passed only makes him feel older and weaker, a feeling he doesn't gladly welcome.  Identical ruby eyes hold a wane but sharp gaze on one particular spot on the piece of paper, and finally, after what seems like an eternity, he turns away, striding out the heavy wooden doors.

“I'm going out.” He states to one of his servants.

“I will tell the chauffeur to get the car ready. Which car will be the best fit for the occasion?”

“I won’t be needing it.”

“But…”

“I will be going alone.” He says once more, finality apparent in his voice. 

“Um… Akashi-sama…” The servant utters timidly, “What about the young master and his kids?”

“What about them?”

“They will be coming later for lunch.”

Akashi raises an eyebrow. Is that so? He totally forgot about that. His age is catching up with him.

“Tell them to come tomorrow. I will not be able to make it back in time.”

“Yes, Akashi-sama. When will you be coming back?”

“I... do not know for sure. I will be leaving now.”

“Please be careful on your way, Akashi-sama.”

The servant bows and sends him out the door. Whatever his master will be doing must be very important; he is willing to give up spending time with his grandchildren for this.

Akashi wanders the streets of Tokyo. He feels out of place walking here, mostly because the last time he has done that was more than 40 years ago. He didn’t do much of this either when he was a child; his father never allowed such absurd behaviours. But everything’s changed. He vividly remembers that the basketball court used to be in the spot of the electronics shop, and that Maji Burger should be there instead of a modern-looking building. Looking around, Akashi does not recall the part of the city being like this. He is a 68-year-old old man who has been living in Japan for all of his life, but he feels like a stranger. Yet a peculiar surge of familiarity suddenly rushes over him. It’s something he can’t really explain, because nothing is familiar.  _ Everything has changed. _

He turns at the corner, away from the buzzling streets and into the quieter alleys in between neighbourhoods. A small gush of autumn breeze blows onto him, and he nods in satisfaction. Perhaps a little peace and quiet can help him take his mind off… something. He can’t really place a finger on it; he just feels like there is a lot going on inside his head.

Walking a few more blocks, he finally sees it. Not exactly how he remembers it to be, but it has to be it. The small neighbourhood park has the same long slide, the same seesaw, the same set of swings, and the same benches, only now the paint on the facilities are either faded or chipped, the metal playsets are rusted, and everything seems to be covered with dried leaves. Akashi stares at the deserted park for a long time before finally deciding to go in, leaping over the metal chain with a run-down sign that writes ‘DO NOT ENTER’. He was the president of the student council back in his school days, but he was never one that abided by the rules. 

The dried leaves crack under his shoes as he walks by, taking in the scene. Everything seems different; everything  _ is _ different. 

“It’s been 50 years…” He wonders aloud, and although he is well aware that no one is next to him, a small part of him hopes that a few particular people will give him a response. He sighs, ruffling his graying red hair, and walks towards the corner of the small recreational park. He stares at the spot on the ground covered with overgrown grass, and remembers all of a sudden that he forgot to bring a shovel. 

He sighs again, long and hard, and kneels down next to the spot, and starts doing the most un-Akashi thing ever. He starts digging, with his bare hands. He makes a slightly disgusted face from time to time as he touches something suspicious, but he keeps going nevertheless. With soil stuck under his fingernails, Akashi finally digs deep enough and gingerly pulls out the item that has been hidden there for exactly 50 years. He’s fairly surprised by how light it feels. 

Wiping the drops of sweats on his forehead, he settles down on one of the benches, holding the thing as delicately as he can; cradling it, as if dropping it will be the worst thing that happens. He looks at the container intently. What is he supposed to do now? Should he open it? Or not? He made a pact, but obviously the pact was broken. Right now, it is up to him to make the decision that everyone should be making. The redheaded man never thinks that something like this would trouble him for such a long time. He even told his former teammates that he would gouge his eyes out if they lost the match. That was a decision that he made in a blink of an eye, so how come this is so difficult?

Finally, Akashi pats away the remaining dirt on the container and turns the lid slowly, small squeaky noises filling his ears. He opens it with a pop, and cautiously peeks inside before reaching in to pull the contents out. Seven bags with different colors, as well as seven envelopes, also in different colors, are pulled out. Akashi places the container to the side and looks at the items, sighing as he caresses them with utter delicacy. He picks up the light red bag, almost identical to his own hair color of his youth, and nearly drops it as familiar sensations rush over him. 

Happy? Sad? Peaceful? Lost? He’s not really sure.

The only thing he’s sure is that he’s emotional. He shakes his head in an attempt to clear his mind.

Akashi gingerly pulls on the leg of the bright red ribbon and gently pours out the content inside. He’s surprised that he managed to remember the stuff he had put in, seeing that he has the tendency to forget about things lately. He grazes his fingers on the neatly folded shirt. It isn’t just any shirt. It was the ugly pink shirt that the Vorpal Swords wore for like one time. 

Now Akashi is puzzled. He thinks hard, trying to figure out why on earth did he put this here. It doesn’t really make sense. Sentimentally speaking, he should have put the Teiko jersey in. Victory wise, it wasn’t a particularly memorable one. Yes, they did put up with a pretty good fight with those American jerks, but it shouldn’t be this special. So why did he put this shirt in 50 years ago?

Oh.

Akashi remembers now. The match must have been the representation of the start of their friendship. After the first Winter Cup, when Seirin had beaten Rakuzan, everyone reconnected. During their weekly meet-ups, Kuroko would sometimes bring Kagami, and they would just talk or play basketball, or just hang out in general. Akashi would like to think it was until after the match with the Jabberwocks that the seven of them had gotten real close, becoming this tight-knitted group. Other people see them as friends, but they know they are way more important to each other than friends. To Akashi, they were the family that he didn’t have.

Akashi reached inside the bag and pulled out a piece of card. More accurately, a photo. A faint smile appeared on his aged face. It was one of the many times they have had fun together, yet he remembered this day vividly.

The picture was taken at the amusement park. Believe it or not, that day was the first time that Akashi had gone to an amusement park, since his father deemed this as an unacceptable behaviour. “Mingling with the commoners and wasting time to go on dangerous rides are not acceptable in this family, Seijuurou”, he had said. But the young boy still went, and he did not regret it one bit. It was one of the greatest moments in his whole entire life. 

Akashi chuckles, happy memories coming back to his mind. He remembers that Kagami and Aomine were absolutely terrified after entering the haunted house. He remembers that Murasakibara had bought at least 10 sticks of cotton candies. He remembers that Midorima had puked after going on a particularly dizzy ride. He remembers that Kise had won this gigantic stuffed llama at one of the booths. He remembers that Kuroko had been sipping on a large cup of vanilla milkshake every other hour. And he remembers that he had been smiling for the whole day. 

His smile widens. He misses this feeling. Though it is only nostalgia speaking, he has not felt this happy in a long time. Placing the photo and the shirt back inside the small light red bag, he picks up the same color envelope.

“To Akashi Seijuurou”, it wrote neatly. 

His fingers fiddle nervously with the flap of the envelope, contemplating whether he should open it or not. After a few minutes, though it seems like hours to Akashi, he gently rips off the tape. Six pieces of paper fell out. 

The idea of writing short notes to the others was rather last minute. It was Kagami’s idea, in fact. It started as a half-hearted joke, but the others eventually came around to the suggestion. Akashi thought it was a little bit too cheesy for seven teenage boys to write sappy notes to their best friends at the time, but now he is glad that they did this. 

That’s one of the last few things that Akashi can hold onto.

WIth slightly trembling fingers, Akashi picks up one. From the roughly folded edges, he guesses it was from either Aomine or Kagami. He isn’t wrong; he is faced with Aomine’s scrawny handwriting. Taking a deep breath, he starts reading the note.

_ Akashi: _

_ Hell, I can’t imagine you being old and wrinkly after 50 years. You must look super fucking weird. Honestly I don’t know what to write. Who’s idea is it to do this crap? Right. Bakagami. Anyway, I heard your father wants you to go to England or something to study, but I know you don’t. Stop sticking up with his shit man, you’re 18. He’s done enough. Go do stuff you like. _

_ Aomine  _

Akashi hums. He doesn’t expect any more from his impatient friend. He supposes this is as much sentiment as he could get out of him. However, he appreciates this; it shows that he cared. Akashi picks up the next one. It has a few sparkly stickers on it, though the colors have already faded.

_ Akashicchi! _

_ Thank you for believing in me during Teiko! If it weren’t for you, perhaps I wouldn’t even be playing basketball now. I’ll tell you something, but promise to keep it a secret. Other than Kurokocchi and maybe Aominecchi, you’re my absolute favourite. And I know I am Akashicchi’s secret favourite too, right? So you must know already that I’m going to study aviation in university, so that I can be a pilot afterwards. If Akashicchi needs a ride anywhere for his business trips, I’ll take you there! _

_ Ryouta _

A wane smile appears on Akashi’s face. The old man can almost hear his friend’s loud and annoying but bright and bubbly voice. Kise wasn’t wrong. He was indeed one of his favourite people. Akashi folds the paper and moves onto the next one. For some reason, it smells particularly like sweets.

_ To Aka-chin: _

_ Aka-chin is a very good friend to me since he buys me a lot of limited edition snacks. But Aka-chin is too thin and too small, like Kuro-chin. Maybe I should learn to make desserts from Kaga-chin so that you can have really tasty desserts with me. Or we can just go outside and eat. The donuts down the street taste really good. I have always listened to Aka-chin; maybe Akachin should listen to me on this one. _

_ Mura _

Akashi sighs; he misses the desserts his tall friend used to make. By no means is he a sweet tooth, but he is absolutely able to make an exception for Murasakibara’s. He does eventually listen to his friend. They are good, but never as good as the ones he made. Akashi reaches his hand into the envelope and pulls out another one. Really, the food stain gives him away.

_ To Akashi of 50 years later: _

_ Ah, you should know that I was joking when I suggested writing stuff for each other so I really don’t have much to say, but anyways I like how you are now. You know, without the weird eye and scissor-stabbing habit. You are actually a super kind and fun person to be around, but I just hope you wouldn’t overwork yourself in the future like you are now. You have too much to do for an 18-year-old! Go out and have fun! YOLO! _

_ K.T. _

Akashi suppresses a chuckle behind his hand. Aomine and Kagami truly are similar, aren’t they? He is just a tiny bit skeptical. Did Kagami really mean ‘kind and fun’, or did he write the wrong hiragana? He decides to give him a benefit of the doubt. He’s pleased; no one ever calls him that. He picks up another piece of note. The tidiness of the handwriting screams Midorima.

_ Akashi Seijuurou: _

_ You may not have been the perfect captain, but you are a fair opponent and a good friend. I wish you prosperity, as well as happiness and good health, in the long journey ahead of you. I do not know the lucky item for a Sagittarius the same day 50 years from now, but I will buy it for you as soon I hear it from Oha-Asa. _

_ Midorima Shintarou _

A bitter smile appears on Akashi’s face. He has picked up on the habit to listen to Oha-Asa for quite a while now. It’s quite nonsense, and it’s something that goes against the logic he stands by, but he still does it. It’s a black button, Akashi tells his friend in his head. The lucky item for a Sagittarius today is a black button. He gently runs his finger over it on his jacket, and finally takes out the remaining note.

_ To Akashi-kun: _

_ I can still see some regret in your eyes when we go out together. This is not a blame to be put onto yourself. It is in the past, please do not ponder it again. I am happy that we all are making wonderful memories together now. This is all that matters at the moment. I hope one day you will be able to see through it. _

_ Sincerely, Kuroko Tetsuya _

Akashi purses his lips. Kuroko did know him best. He supposes he should say a silent apology to the boy. True, it has been more than 50 years since the incident, yet as Kuroko had written, he still blames himself for it. He likes the way things turned out; it has given him a wonderful second family, but he sometimes wonders what they would have become without the lost time.

He folds the small notes neatly and puts them back into the envelope, smoothing his palm over it. He feels happy, but he fully knows that the emptiness inside him is slowly eating him up. He casts a glance at the other colorful bags and envelopes next to him on the bench, untouched. He considers opening them for the others, but that doesn’t seem right. It’s private, after all.

You guys were supposed to open this with me, he thinks miserably. A drop of water falling onto his own envelope pulls him back to reality; is it raining? The weather forecast did not mention rain this morning. Akashi looks up only to be met by a blazing sun. He frowns slightly. What is this water? Why is his face wet?

Akashi greets himself with a low dry chuckle. He’s crying, of course. He wants to laugh, but a pathetic sob escapes his mouth instead. Are these happy tears or sad tears? He’s going to put a bet on the latter. 

… Bet? 

He sniffles one last time and wipes away the tears with his sleeve. He packs away everything back into the container and proceeds to leave. There’s somewhere he’s got to be at.

He walks into the fast food shop he and his friends used to visit often, feeling relieved even though his body feels heavy and sluggish. Apparently this is the only Maji Burger in the area, which is 45 minutes away from the park just now; the others are all replaced by modern buildings. He looks around. There is barely anyone, sans the cashier, the chef and the lone customer tapping on his computer by the window.

“Welcome! How may I help you?” The old cashier says in a trembling voice yet cheerful tone. Akashi takes a peep at the menu. Good, nothing’s changed.

“Hello.” The redhead greets politely. “I would like a large vanilla milkshake, a teriyaki burger, 3 cheeseburgers, a banana boat with extra chocolate and sprinkles, a vanilla soft serve, a veggie burger, and a cup of warm water.” The cashier doesn’t seem to mind his large order. “Alright, coming right up!”

He pays for his food and takes the heavy tray in his hands, scanning the restaurant for the right place to sit. He finds a 7-seat table by the corner and puts down the tray. He takes out the food item by item, placing it by each seat around the table before settling down on the last seat at the head of the table, the cup of warm water in his hands. He stares at the empty seats before him and closes his eyes tight. A lone tear slides down his cheek, but he does not attempt to wipe it away this time. 

“I have won the bet, and therefore I am treating you all to a meal. Itadakimasu.”


End file.
